Bird in a Cage
by comstocks
Summary: All Catherine wanted to do was visit her mother for lunch and have a peaceful day. Never did she expect that someone hijacking her carriage would lead to a chain of events that would shape her future. She never did have much luck. Jacob/OC, slight AU, rating may change
1. Wood

_so yeah idk i was bored and i finished acs yesterday and thought, might as well give it a try. Hope you like it_  
 _warning; mentions of abuse_

The sun shone bright today over the district of Westminster, completely random weather for the middle of March. Many of its citizens were splashed in an array of colours; blues, purples, lavenders, reds and greens all bustling around the streets, seeming to want to take advantage of the heat before it was gone in the morrow. Children chased after each other, toothy grins wide on their faces. Adults were pushed aside as the children raced through the crowds, eliciting many negative responses. Some citizens, donned in slightly less extravagant clothing, came out of their alleyways to savour the weather. Yet when they passed those in brighter colours, people stared down at them in disgust like they were dirt under their shoe. There were men and women in matching red and black clothing marching across the busy streets, acting like they owned London. Which in a way, they very much did. They snarled at the poorer citizens and a single glance to those higher had them cowering away in fright.

The streets were lined with tall and large houses, where a dark haired woman stepped out from a purple door. Her brown eyes narrowed, squinting against the sudden assault of the bright light. She let the door shut softly behind her, having no need to lock it knowing that Effie was still inside. Once her eyes adjusted to the light, she inhaled deeply, smelling the roses that Effie had planted in front garden.

The lady wore a long baby blue skirt that hid her high heeled shoes, with an extended bustle at the back. Though facing forward it seemed as though she was wearing nothing but a slim skirt. There was an intricate golden flower design at the top of her skirt that wrapped around the length of her waist and waving across the back of her skirt. Her soft blue jacket hid half of the pattern across her hips, the jacket reaching to her mid-thigh and it covered her arms. It was open, exposed her pleated white shirt which had a small bow looped around the collar. On her chest sat a large red stone, vastly contrasting her light outfit, the jewel glistening in the sunlight.

She moved towards the pavement, her heels clicking against the stone. She decided that she would take a leisurely stroll towards the City of London, needing some time to herself for once. After all, it was something that she didn't have a lot of anymore.

"Miss Catherine!" Someone called the moment she stepped onto the cobblestone pathway, causing her to stop.

Catherine closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, realising that the slight freedom she was going to have was gone. She turned around to see Herbert waving at her violently as he raced his way towards her.

"Hello, Herbert is there something I can do for you?" She wondered pleasantly, already knowing the answer to the question, despite what she hoped.

"Yes Miss, I'm here to take you to your mothers!" He announced and her hope dimmed.

"Herbert, I can walk, there is really no need-" She tried only to interrupted

"Mister Jonathan said so, Miss, otherwise he'd be very upset," In the light, she could see his eyes glimmering with slight fear and she felt sadness prick at her heart.

The poor boy was only carrying out Jonathan's wishes to avoid his wrath; it wasn't really all his fault. And she certainly didn't want to see him hurt because she was adamant that she wanted to walk, it wouldn't be at all fair.

"Of course," She gave him what she hoped to be a supportive smile, though she felt it came out to be more of a grimace.

It must have appeared the way she wanted as his entire face lit up, a toothy grin gracing his young but weathered features. He held out his palm towards her, which she gratefully clasped with her blue gloved one. He guided her over to the short distance of the carriage that was directly parked outside her house. How she didn't notice it there before was beyond her. If she was honest, she was rather oblivious to the world sometimes.

She gripped his hand a little tighter as she climbed into the seat of the carriage, not wanting to topple over. Catherine let go of Herbert's hand, thanking him for his assistance when he didn't at all have to. The man tipped his hat at her, vanishing from view. Carefully, she lowered herself onto the seat, her dress and her sore shoulder rather hindering her movements. The carriage dipped behind her, informing her that Herbert had set down.

The whips from overhead cracked, causing her to jump slightly, even though she should have expected it to happen. The black house gave a neigh before moving in the direction that Herbert wanted it to go. Catherine settled her glove clad hands across her lap, turning to her head to watch the city pass by. Yet, her dark eyes weren't at all focused on the scenery around her as they began to glaze over as thoughts whirred through her mind. Her left thumb absentmindedly fiddled with the hidden ring on her left hand.

Catherine couldn't wait to see her mother and her daughter again, feeling as though it had been far too long since she had seen them. In fact, she couldn't even remember the last time she had even seen them. It must have been over two weeks, going onto three now. Even though they were only half an hour away from where she lived, she couldn't afford to have them anywhere her home. There was no way that she was going to let her mother see the type of man Jonathan really was nor could she let him touch a hair on their daughters head. So she had told them a little white lie that she and Jonathan were going to visit his brother on the outskirts of London for a little while.

For the past few weeks, Jonathan had come home from his business furious and red faced. Although it was something she had been used to for the past four years of their marriage, it seemed even more amplified and uncontrollable. When she had questioned him on what happened, he had struck her down instead, leaving her eye swollen. From that night on, he came home even more livid than the last, which implored her to send her daughter away for a little while.

Oh how she missed her Josephine, truly the most wonderful child in the world. Whenever she was in the room, she always seemed to light up the place with her bell like laughter and her impish grin. Despite the fact that the girl was a little troublemaker, it was more endearing that infuriating. Catherine found that she was all that really kept her going in the world that seemed to become drearier the longer she lived in it. Catherine was only twenty but sometimes she felt like she was much, much older.

Then there was her wonderful mother of course, the only person Catherine felt that she could trust and rely on nowadays. Her mother had been the one constant throughout her short life, hardly having any sort of contact with her sister whatsoever. Though, Anna had always been that way. Even since she was a small child, her older sister did never take an interest in her. Not that she minded, her sister could be the devil sometimes. Yet as seasons passed, she could see her mother becoming frailer and frailer, her expressions seeming to dim little by little.

Her mother was a fighter; she wouldn't let death take her so easily. The woman had convinced herself that she was going to be immortal for the rest of her life, which Catherine always rolled her eyes at but always secretly hoped so.

She was jarred out of her thoughts however when her carriage came to a sudden halt and Catherine blinked in confusion. Surely they mustn't be there yet? Had her thoughts gone through her mind that quickly? She glanced around, finding that they were beside Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament, causing her to become even more perplexed. Catherine began to stand up to question Herbert what on earth was going on, it was all rather peculiar. Then she was pushed back in her seat, or rather she fell back, when the carriage hurtled forwards at break neck speed. She let out a small whine as she landed on her shoulder, her good arm clutching it in hopes to sooth the pain. There was an unfamiliar laugh from the seat in the carriage that sounded all too excited if you asked her. The carriage swerved from side to side to narrowly avoid the other carriages across the bridge.

Whoever the hell was driving – for it was certainly not Herbert – was going to get them both killed at this rate. Catherine knew that she had to act now otherwise it would be the end of them both. She blocked out the pain in her shoulder for now, focusing on standing up in the rocking carriage. She latched onto the left edge of the carriage, pushing herself forwards, twisting her body to the side as she did so. One hand let go to grab onto the edge of the roof, the other shortly following. With effort, she lifted herself to her full height to see who the driver was. There in Herbert's seat was a young man, around her age, a flat cap atop his head. As much as she would love to study him some more, she needed to gather his attention.

"Excuse me!" She called over the howling wind, hoping that she was loud enough for him to hear. It worked for he whipped his head in her direction, his hazel eyes widening in surprise.

He mustn't have known that she was sitting in the carriage when he was quite clearly looking to steal it. Nonetheless, she was rather annoyed that he had most likely pushed poor Herbert off his seat.

"Might I ask what you're doing?" She questioned, wanting some answers as to what was going on. He went to open his mouth but there was a noise that exploded from behind the man.

The man ducked just in time as something came whizzing over his head. It was then when she realised that it was a bullet. She let out a shriek in fear that it was going to hit her but it passed over head. Another shot came, making her realise that they were being shot at! By God, she was going to die. She glanced to the left to see two Blighters riding a carriage, a few metres away from her one. One of the Blighters had a gun pointed in their direction and she snapped her eyes to the man again. This time he had a look of apology on his face, his face that of a grimace.

"Miss, I think it would be best if you sat back down. Terribly sorry about the inconvenience," There was something in his eyes that assured her, so she obliged. She didn't plan to die today and she had to hope this man who clearly attracted the Blighters knew what he was doing. Besides it's not like she could really jump out of the carriage.

Hastily, she lowered herself from her position, scrambling to sit back down again. Her heart thumped frantically against her chest, the blood pumping in her ears drowning out the continued gunshots from around her. One hand clutched the side of the carriage, whilst the other was curled to a tight fist on her lap. She closed her eyes, wishing these absolutely mad few minutes to be over. The speed of the carriage increased with each passing second and she could feel her heart beating faster. At this rate, she was sure that she was going to have a heart attack.

The wind whipped through her now unravelling hair and she could feel adrenaline pumping through her veins. For some strange reason rather than feeling fear over what was happening, she felt… excitement. She had no idea where this strange, alien feeling had come from but she found that she rather liked it. It was something that she hadn't felt in a long, long time, reminding her times of when she was a small child who had no care in the world, who had no idea what her life was going to morph into. Is this what it felt like to be free? To be your own person? If that was the case, she wished that she could feel like this every single day of her life, she was still only young.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end when she felt the carriage slow to a stop. She opened her eyes to find those who had been chasing them nowhere in sight. There was no gunshots either, something she was rather glad for. Her racing heart began to slow down as her breathing levelled out, her sides slightly sore from pressing against the tightness of her corset, the damned thing. Whoever decided this was to be the fashion of the era certainly forgot that people had lungs to breath.

"Ma'am?" Her eyes snapped to the side to find the hijacker gazing at her, her eyes narrowing at him slightly. For a few seconds, she studied him.

He was wearing a rather tattered outfit with patches here and there on his black jacket and beige trousers. Off white socks came up just below his knees, half of his shirt untucked from his waist. He wore a blue waistcoat with red underlining; his white shirt was open slightly at the top, exposing his chest slightly.

She felt her cheeks heat up slightly and she desperately hoped it didn't show on her face. When her eyes fell to his face, she felt them flush with blood even more. A smirk appeared on his once concerned face and she found him to be extremely handsome. She snapped out of her reverie, blaming her still fading rush of adrenaline on her mood.

"Are you alright?" He wondered, holding out his hand to her.

She ignored it however, her memories of the situation that had just happened returning to her as she realised this man had stolen her carriage, involved her in a high speed chase, maybe having even tried to kidnap her and to make matters worse, Herbert was nowhere to be found! But rather than apologizing for his actions, he was standing here smirking at her. It was then when she found him a little less attractive. The man moved out of the way as she stepped off the carriage, mud splashing onto her dress. Not that she cared at all; it was only mud and not her concern at this moment. This man, whoever, was.

"Am I alright? Am _I_ alright? What did you do to Herbert!?" The man's eyebrows shot up as she pointed a finger at him, his arms going into a surrender position. Catherine stared at him expectantly her once good mood dissolving rapidly.

"Who?" He wondered with an innocent tone as though he had no clue as to what she was talking about. The nerve of the man! She leant away from him, her hands coming to rest on her hips in a disapproving manner.

"The man who was driving this carriage, is he alright? Did you hurt him?" She pandered him with questions, wanting to know if the poor man was alright. Herbert is a kind soul who only ever wants to help, do his job, earn his due to provide for his young family. It would pain her to see if something would happen to him.

"I didn't hurt him, I assure you. He's at Big Ben the last time I checked," The man answered and she saw nothing but honesty written on his face. So, she took his word for it and turned away from the odd man.

Although he had assured her that Herbert was at Big Ben, she wanted to see if he was alright herself. Plus, there was also the fact that the Blighters may be after him now after seeing the commotion that the stranger had involved them in. Catherine saw that they were in the district of Southwark, so it may take her a while to actually reach him know that the carriage was falling apart and she would only walk so fast in this dress. Lord knows she couldn't wait to take it off when she reached her mothers, which was going to be much later than she had originally wanted it to be.

"What are you doing?" The man's voice made her jump slightly, having thought he had vanished the moment she turned away from him.

She would have thought he would have just simply gone by his day, she didn't want to be reminded of the life and death situation she had just be in moments ago. If people saw her with him, she was going to be in serious trouble.

"To find the poor man you pushed off the carriage!" She informed, realising that if she just ignored him, he'd only be persistent with her.

"It'll take you a while," Catherine sighed as he pointed out the obvious but refrained from telling him that.

She had been taught – or rather beaten – not to talk back and act rudely towards someone. Not that she could be rude to somebody, she hated seeing any form of negative emotion displayed on anyone's face.

"Then so be it,"

"At least let me get you carriage and drive you down," He offered, making her pause and turn to the side to face him.

By God, this man was very persistent, something that she found mildly irritating and most curious. She felt as though he felt guilty for causing her so much hassle, which brought about her interest. Most people within this day and age would have simply stared at her disdainfully and left her to her own devices. This man… he was different. Yet, she stared at him as though he was an escaped patient from Lambeth Asylum himself. Did he really just offer to drive her across London when he had nearly killed them both minutes ago?

The man must have seen the bewildered expression on her face and winced, grimace pulling at his features.

"That was a stupid question, wasn't it," He slouched forward, seeming faux-defeated.

She lifted a gloved hand to cover mouth as a small but quiet, breathy laugh, trying not to let her mirth show. She was meant to annoyed at him and mistrustful towards him but she was easily amused. Her laugh must have been loud enough because he perked up slightly. She removed her hand, bringing it forward to show him a small space between her thumb and her index finger.

"Just a tad, sir," He smiled at her and she felt blood rushing to her cheeks over how pretty it made his face seem.

Quickly, she turned around again, trying in vain to hide her cheeks. Goodness, what had come over with her all of a sudden! Why was she so enthralled by this man! He had placed her life in danger and had pushed Herbert off the carriage, lest she forget. And she was married, Jonathan had eyes everywhere and he wasn't going to be pleased. She briefly glanced at the man, being sure not to get caught as he strolled beside her. He seemed like a good man, though she could see something unusual about him, something she couldn't quite place her finger on. She always allowed others to have second questions, so she halted their trek again.

"I don't think I properly introduced myself," She told him, holding out her hand towards him as a sign of giving him a second chance.

"Catherine Wood,"

He grasped her hand in a firm grip.

"Jacob Frye,"


	2. Frye

Jacob certainly didn't except his afternoon to turn out quite like it did. He had been on a Templar Hunt within the district of Westminster to kill one of Starrick's many lackeys to loosen his control over London. Evie had told him that he wasn't ready to storm through Westminster yet, with the most skilled Templars in control of that area. He had rolled his eyes at his sister, ignoring her advice completely. Ever since Father died, Evie acted like his substitute and it was extremely infuriating. Just because she was older than him by four minutes didn't mean that she had authority over him in anyway. So he did what he did best, go against her wishes.

The mission had, truthfully been going fairly well. He had picked off the other Templars one by one, knowing that it wouldn't be right to let them live as well as their leader. Just as he planned to shoot the man in the head, he misplaced his footing on the roof. As his finger had been on the trigger, the jolt caused him to fire on accident and he fell off the roof. Thankfully, his good reflexes caused him to latch onto a slight edge to the bricks. Yet by that time, the Templar leader had altered every Blighter around. When he had glanced down, he saw at least ten of them and some policemen that Jacob had found strange. Wouldn't the police want to arrest the Blighters?

Nonetheless, Jacob knew that he would have to leave. He may be reckless but he wasn't stupid enough to fight nearly twenty men. He had hopped from edge to edge; they all shot at him like crazy. One had managed to land a hit just above his fingers of his left hand, causing him to lose his grip and fall to the ground. After landing, he legged it out of the area, heading towards the nearest carriage available. Never did he think that a woman was going to be on the carriage he hijacked, leading him to standing face to face with her right now.

He decided that she was quite pretty, but not extremely jaw dropping in anyway. She had a heart shaped face with a seemingly natural light olive skin tone, her lips slightly plump. Her nose was probably what was the most striking for it was completely straight and narrow, and for some reason seemed to stand out on her face the most.

There was a large scar marring her features; it started at her hair line on the left side of her side of her face, travelling down to her eye. When she blinked he could see that it cut into her eyelid before ending at her nostril. It had been clearly covered in powder but it was still very predominant.

Her eyes were almond in shape, a dark brown colour with flecks of green within them here and there. There was no distinct style of her brown, almost black hair for it had all come completely loose after his horrendous driving. Instead, the curls fell down to her ribs, strands of hair all over the place.

"Catherine Wood," She announced pulling him from his thoughts, making him realise that she was holding her hand out to him to shake. He grabbed her hand gently, yet firmly, bringing it up and down.

"Jacob Frye," He smiled at her and he saw her cheeks heat up which motivated his next actions on even more.

Instead of letting go of Catherine's hand, he moved his own so that he was only holding her fingers. He saw her eyes widen as he brought her hand up to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. Jacob watched as her olive skin morphed into a bright red colour, matching the large pendent that sat on her neck. For once, his charms towards women didn't result in a slap to the face. If he had a pound every time he so much as winked at a lady that led to a red hand mark on his face, he would be as rich as the Queen.

Unexpectedly, Catherine snatched her hand away from his grasp and he awaited the slap to his handsome face. Instead, he saw her glancing down at her hand strangely as though it was some foreign object. He cleared his throat to break her out from her trance like state. Catherine shook her head, wide eyes snapping towards him. Her face was still coloured crimson and then she swiftly turned on her heel.

"Onwards then Mister Frye," She spluttered, striding forward at a speed that no one in that style of dress would ever be able to do.

Jacob didn't know whether or not he was pleased with the affect that kissing her hand would have. The poor woman appeared to be utterly dazed by his reaction, not at all sure what to do with herself. He found it odd really, knowing that she was married; he had felt the ring on her finger when he had held his hand. Perhaps she was mortified that, as a married woman, a man was trying to woo her. Or it could be that her husband didn't treat her in such a way.

But he was only making assumptions. Who was he to question her personal life? He had known her for a little over fifteen minutes and it was unlikely that he was ever going to see her again after random situation they had both found themselves in. He picked up the pace in his footsteps, somehow finding it difficult to keep up with her.

"What caused you to steal my carriage, if you don't mind me asking?" She wondered, ending the awkward air that had been building towards them after his little stunt. His left eyebrow rose at the curiosity in her voice, having fully expected hostility instead. It was there on her face too, intrigue clear.

"Blighters," He told her simply.

Jacob felt her tense beside him, causing him to glance at her once again. Her face was tight, her lips pressed together into a thin line. Her once relaxed body language shifted to her arms crossing over her chest, her shoulder hunching in a defensive position. His eyebrow rose again, not having expected that reaction. He knew that the Blighters terrorised the streets and struck fear into the citizens of London but there was something more to her reaction that she was letting on. But he just shook it off; knowing that there was no way this seemingly innocent lady had anything to do with the Blighters of all people.

"You're… you're not one of them are you?" She stuttered slightly at her first words, sounding extremely fearful that made him frown.

"Pfft, they wish. I'm far too handsome," He joked and it worked for he saw her posture relax again. Hunched shoulders lowered and her arms came to rest behind her back, hands clasping together, back straitening in sophistication. She turned her head to the side to stare at him incredulously.

"What has you being handsome have to do with not being a part of the Blighters, Mister Frye?" She questioned, slight mirth colouring her tone.

"Didn't you know, Miss Wood?" He stage-whispered, leaning sideways, acting like he was about to let her in on a large secret.

Jacob slowed his steps to add to the dramatic effect, which she soon mimicked. It was very hard for him to contain his laughter over how roped in she was over his conspiratorial tone. He had been trained for as long as he could walk to be able to act and be able to handle his emotions.

Well most of the time depending on who you talked to.

Nonetheless, he made sure to keep his voice down as he talk to Catherine, the poor woman eagerly awaiting his next words.

"They're all ugly the lot of them, that's what," He couldn't escape the laughter that fell from his lips at her astonished face, staring at him as though he had lost his marbles. She sighed through her nose, moving away from him and back to her original position. Catherine shook her head, her eyes rising to the sky.

"You are one odd man, Mister Frye. I'm convinced you're an escaped patient from Lambeth Asylum with the way you drive, follow me and make strange jokes," His laughter died like the wind blowing out a flame. He drew back, having not expected that.

Frankly, he was quite offended that she didn't find his little joke funny and insulting him in such a way. He would have expected this from Evie, let alone a stranger he had just met. Jacob felt his temper rise a tad, the insult striking a blow to his ego more than he like. Here he was, acting like a gentleman to a woman who he had caused a lot of trouble for. He didn't even know why he was being so kind really, he had Templars to kill, Blighters to beat up. Why was he wasting his time here? Jacob didn't at all know, but he pegged it on the fact that he felt a slight attraction towards her. It would be doomed anyways, she was married after all. Nevertheless, he knew that he had to finish what he started, never being one to not finish a job properly. It was in his nature. Now he was helping her find her driver a tiny bit more irritable.

"Let's just find your driver and I'll be out of your hair, Miss Wood. Back to Lambeth after," He tried to make his tone one of mirth but it came out harsher than he had meant it to. Her smile dimmed from her face, missing the flinch that his words inflicted on her. Catherine smacked a gloved hand on her forehead, sighing in defeat.

"Oh, Mister Frye. Oh, I'm so sorry! Oh no, I didn't mean to offend you. My mind doesn't want to think before I speak sometimes. I'm so sorry," He didn't answer, knowing that he would undoubtedly be rude when it wasn't needed.

Catherine sounded extremely apologetic and guilty over her words, an underlying of fear embedded in her voice as well. Despite her rude comment, he allowed to slide, knowing that she was upset about her actions. Though of course he didn't tell her that, all he needed was for his temper to cool down before he talked again. Catherine didn't try to talk to him again after that, choosing to also remain in silence. It left the pair in their own thoughts and the awkward air soon rising again between them.

Jacob glanced at their surroundings, seeing that they had now reached the bridge that lead from Southwark straight across to Westminster. Big Ben stood tall in the distance, its hands telling him that it was now quarter to two. Carriages made their way across the bridge at a slow pace, horses only being able to go so fast. His eyes caught Blighters on some of the carriages, their eyes undoubtedly searching for either his sister or him. It most likely the latter. So he did his best to keep his head down knowing that the moment they saw him, he would be attack instantly. Plus, it would end up in Catherine being hurt as well and he wasn't one to put a civilian in harm's way. Although he never did follow the Creed properly, he did value that one aspect.

A nearby carriage passed, closer than the others. His sensed perked up instantly, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. In the corner of his eye, he saw a Blighter carriage slowing down towards them, their awareness on his growing. Jacob took action quickly, moving forward to become closer to Catherine. Without giving her warning, he went to gently grasp her arm. Under his fingertips he felt her flinch at the sudden contact, her entire form freezing up.

"Just keep moving forward. Stay calm and normal," He whispered, knowing that his choice in not telling her in beforehand wasn't wise.

"W-what are you doing?" Her voice shook and he frowned from behind her, not expecting the fear in her voice.

"Just trying to hide from a few Blighters," He spoke with a tone on nonchalant trying to act cool in the situation as she was clearly not. Jacob saw her head turn to the side as though she was going to look behind them and give him away.

"Don't look behind you," He told her before she could fully gaze behind her. Catherine's head snapped forward and he heard her wince slightly at the speed.

She reached a gloved hand towards her neck and Jacob drew back slightly to avoid being hit in the face. He inhaled deeply, his nose taking in her lemon perfume. Jacob found that he quite liked that smell; it was better than whatever the hell the Rooks smelt like half the time – blood, sweat, dirt or death. It all got rather unappealing after a while.

"What do the Blighters even want with you? Are you their public enemy number one?" Catherine wondered, sounding utterly perplexed as to what was going on.

"You could say that," He informed her cheekily, trying to lighten the mood slightly. The carriage was still slow behind them and Jacob could still feel their keen eyes on their backs but he could tell that they were beginning to grow bored of them both.

"I really don't think that's something to be proud of! Do you know how dangerous they are?" He winced at the shrillness of her voice, drawing back at the pitch. The fear from earlier creeped back into her voice again and it made Jacob wonder just how much the Blighters terrorised the streets. All he saw them as was a few pesky flies that simply needed to be swatted into oblivion but it seemed that they were much more than he originally thought.

It was why he wanted to build up the Rooks, to not only loosen the Templar's hold over London but to make London free from fear, to make it a safer place for its citizens. Yet they were directly involved with the Templars, acting as their lackeys and perhaps acted as their smoke and mirrors. He thought to ask them about Templars but she would probably call him a Lambeth patient again so he didn't bother. Besides, it wasn't like Templars made themselves well known; they only did it in subtle ways much like the Assassins. An endless silent feud for years on end. It became rather boring after a while.

"I'll be fine," She huffed at that and Jacob rolled his eyes at her behaviour that was reminiscent of a child. After what seemed like forever, Jacob felt the eyes draw away from them both. He heard the neigh of their horse, its hooves slapping against the dirt at a higher speed then before. Jacob released his hold on her arm then, coming to stand at her side.

He watched curiously as she brought her right hand up to her left shoulder. There was a pained expression on her face as she rubbed her fingers against her shoulder, rotating it as she did.

"Did I hurt you?" Jacob questioned, wondering why he shoulder would be hurting that badly when he was barely even holding onto her arm.

Catherine shook her head, glancing at him briefly. He caught a grim gleam in her eye that he didn't quite understand but she turned away before he had the chance to examine the look further.

"No, no, I just knocked it on a door frame this morning," She informed and he shrugged, not seeing it as being important anymore.

They found themselves at the end of the bridge, now standing directly next to Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament. Jacob gazed around the area, remembering how he had pulled the man, Herbert, off the carriage. He was glad that he hadn't mentioned to Catherine how he had all but shoved the man to the ground as he took the carriage; being a little rougher than he had intended. Could you blame him? He was in a rush to get away from the swarm of Templars and Blighters, he needed a hasty escape.

There was no sign of him from what he could see and he went to activate his special vision, only for Catherine's voice to break through his concentration.

"And you were sure that it was here?" She wondered and he turned his attention towards her. When he turned to her, he expected wrath over what he told her being a 'fable' but instead found clear distress on her face.

He quirked an eyebrow up at that, her behaviour towards her driver strange. It was obvious that she was some sort of upper class man, her rich clothes and the red ruby chain around neck gave it away, so why did she care about some old driver? In all twenty years of his life, he had only seen higher class as being arrogant, ignorant and self-absorbed snobs who cared about nothing else but their social status and themselves. It made him frazzled over her behaviour.

"Yes, I'm one hundred percent sure. He can't have gone far, we'll just look around and ask," His words did nothing to ease the anxiety now practically radiating off her but she nodded anyways and he reciprocated the action.

Catherine moved away from him and he saw her make her way over to a few civilians milling around. Whilst she asked them where Herbert had gone, Jacob inhaled deeply. He closed his eyes for a second, blocking out any outside noise in order to focus properly. When he opened his eyes again, the world was filled in white and grey. Catherine was the only person in colour, everyone one else remaining white for they weren't important. A few police officers across the street became highlighted in blue and there were no reds. There was no yellow; indicating that Herbert wasn't here nor was there any evidence left to suggest where he had gone, which he found odd.

"Mister Frye!" Catherine broke him out of his concentration again, her voice full of heightened panic. He snapped his eyes over to the woman to find her eyes wide, her hands trembling. Before he could even ask her what she had discovered, she exploded.

"The Blighters took him less than a minute ago! Oh Herbert, we must-"

"Help!"

There was a wild cry that that came from a carriage that zipped past them. He jumped back, pulling Catherine along with him as it nearly ploughed over. Jacob kept a hold of her shoulder to keep her steady to prevent her from falling over. There was pause as he processed what he just witnessed, the pieces falling into place

"Was that..." He trailed off not quite wanting it to be true.

"Yes," Can the defeated answer and Jacob sighed. He let go of her shoulders, brushing past her. He rushed over to an empty carriage that was conveniently pointing in the direction where the Blighters had gone.

"Hey!" He heard Catherine call out to him but he knew that there wasn't enough time to wait for her when an innocent man was going to be pit in harm's way because of his little mistake.

He placed one foot on the step, grabbing the sides to pull himself up. Jacob sat down on the cushioned seat, grabbing the reigns.

"Wait,"

He turned his head to the side, finding a flustered Catherine at the bottom of the steps. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as she mimicked his earlier actions; though she did it would more difficulty. Jacob let go the reigns, placing them on his lap. He reached over, grasping her hands to help her up. Once she was sitting down, appearing to be quite red faced, she glanced at him.

"What are we waiting for," She told him, a tiny smile on his face. He nodded his head and cracked the reigns, spurring the horses' forwards. This was definitely shaping up to be the weirdest day of his life.


	3. Rescue

_A/N; So this is a monster of a chapter blimey i've ever done so much writing in all my life lmao. It's partially because I don't know when I'm going to be able to update next because I have exams for the next two weeks, which is just lovely right? Anyways, I know where I want this story to go now and there will be a few tweaks to the main game for that but you'll see what I mean. And I've planned Catherine out a bit more now which I hope is more evident in this chapter._

 _Also a cameo in this chap any of you can guess ;) Please review I'd love to see what you all think!_

 **15** **th** **March 1868**

 _That strange feeling_ flowed through her veins again. A mixture of excitement, adrenaline and rapture. It became more intense with each crack of the rein on the horses' back. It felt like a drug; she wanted to take more, even if it would damage her. It just felt amazing.

A small secretive smile wormed its way onto her face, something that she was unable to help. Perhaps it wasn't the most appropriate response to the current situation at hand. After all her carriage driver had been kidnapped with her companion and herself chasing after them at full speed. It just couldn't be helped. She just felt utterly thrilled by the chase; it was wild and something that she'd never done in her life.

She was always kept at home by her father, only being let outside to practice her fencing or her archery when she was young in the large manor's garden. It didn't last forever as her father passed away from illness when she was twelve years of age and her mother wanted to keep her even more sheltered. There was no more fencing and there was no more archery.

Well, not that her mother knew of anyway.

It continued still, even after she married Jonathan and soon became pregnant with Josephine. The man was determined to follow the actions of her parents. Nowadays being allowed outside was considered a blessing and a curse. A blessing in the fact that she was allowed to feel the fresh air of London and a curse in that her husband always had her followed. He didn't know that she knew and she wanted to keep it that way. Otherwise it would result in a nasty wound that would have to keep her remained inside for days.

It wasn't a Lady's place to question their husband; something that she had, had drilled into her mind ever since her father died. Catherine always tried her best to be a wife; always cared for him when he needed, did what he wanted to please him. She never did understand what she did wrong when he began to beat her.

Nonetheless she savoured the moment, knowing that it was going to be something to cherish for the rest of her life despite the chaos and the danger that was commencing. If anything, it only increased her delight. Her eyes glanced to the side to view her companion, a more serious expression on his face. His eyebrows were drawn close together, his hazel eyes narrowed, concentrating on his target. His hands were knuckle white on the reins. Her eyes fell to the weird contraption on the arm closest to her, one eyebrow quirking up in curiosity. It came up to his elbow and appeared to be quite snug on his arm. She wondered what on earth it was, never having seen such fashion before. She would ask him later, they had much more pressing issues at hand.

Her dark eyes stared forward again, not wanting to be caught gazing at him and distract him on his task that he was focused on. They were only a few metres away from the carriage now but not close enough that they could somehow stop that carriage. It seemed that the carriage they were chasing was much larger than their own, which gave them one disadvantage. Jacob swerved them to the side unexpectedly, causing Catherine to yelp at the abrupt movement.

And there was their disadvantage.

Mister Frye really couldn't drive whatsoever.

If it wasn't for her eagerness, she would be in a panicked state over the near brushes with death that she was having because of the man beside her. She couldn't really complain for she didn't know how to drive whatsoever. She supposed that she was even lucky that a man who she had known for a few hours was actually willing to do this for her.

"Mister Frye, be careful!" She yelled over the howling wind that whipped her mad her in all different direction as they made another swerve to narrowly avoid a carriage that was going extremely slow.

Jacob didn't comment on her words, his concentration still evident. His move allowed their carriage to come closer to the one that held Herbert. There was a long stretch of road ahead of them, no twists and turns like the last hundred times before that. Catherine simply sat and observed Jacob bring down the reins one more time and the horses spurred forward.

Finally, the two carriages were side to side as they matched in speed. Simultaneously, Catherine and Jacob glanced at the driver, finding two men. The two reciprocated their movements, their eyes widening at the two of them. The one not driving whipped out a gun that had Catherine gasping. She sat there frozen as a gun was pointed in their direction, never having faced a gun like this. Any pleasant feeling she had earlier drained from her body completely, dread filling the space that had been abandoned. This was it, this was how she died, and all because she was too foolish in thinking that she'd be able to help save Herbert. She'd never see her mother and her daughter again. And worst of all; Jonathan would be furious.

As a shot rang through the air, someone's hand splayed across her back, pulling her down. The hand bundled itself up in her clothing as it brought her up. This time something whizzed across her chest, scraping against the exposed skin of her collar bone. Catherine let out a cry as metal burned again her skin, tears stinging in her eyes from the pain. Yet no tears feel, having felt far worse at the hands of her husband.

"Catherine?! Are you alright?" Her blurry eyes snapped towards the man who had saved her from a bullet twice, worry evident on his face.

Rather than answering him, she caught the glint of metal against the sunlight. Behind Jacob, the man with the gun grinned maliciously, his eyes intent on Jacob's back as he began to point it at him. She grabbed the front of his shirt, collecting the loose bit of clothes. Jacob's eyes bugged out its sockets, wondering what she was doing. Instead of explaining, she pulled him forward as she fell backward just as several shots rang out. Her hands fell away as he fell on top of her, his front stomach smothering her face, giving her little room to breathe.

She hadn't particularly run her idea through, it seems. Thankfully, Jacob pushed himself up so that she was able to breathe again. As she climbed back over her, he gave her an expression of bewilderment and she could only give him an apologetic one back. He nearly fell onto her again when their carriage was knocked to the side but he caught himself before he did, something she was thankful for. Catherine set back up again just as they were rammed into again.

"They're just taking the bloody piss now," Jacob cussed and she raised her eyebrows in shock at his vulgar language that she hadn't heard very much of in her life.

He shoved something thin into her hands that she took no notice of as he began to move off the seat. She observed him incredulous when he clambered his way onto the roof. He kept his knees bent when he rose from his crouch, his arms out to maintain his balance.

"What are you doing?! No one is driving!" She yelled; panic now coursing through her veins. This man was going to kill them both! What was he even doing? He turned to her briefly, a smirk gracing his features.

"You are, love," With that, he gave her a cheeky wink which caused her cheeks to heat up instantly. Then, he did what she didn't expect.

He jumped across their carriage to the other one.

Her mind whirred at what she had just witnessed; know firmly in belief that he was a madman that had escaped from Lambeth. Who else would complete such feats and leave a carriage without a driver and just its passenger. Her hands tightened around when she holding and she glanced down at what he had given to her only moments ago to find some kind of rope in her hands.

Then it clicked.

She squealed, realising that she was now driving the carriage. Her fingers tightened around the reins, having no idea what she was doing. The lack of action on her part began to cause the horses to slow down, which took her a few seconds to notice for she was still trying to process how to control the horses. That and the fact that Jacob and the carriage was fading away in the distance, panic shooting up her body.

Catherine tried to remember how to increase their speed as Jacob had done earlier. She raised the reins to her eye level, gripping the harness just a little bit tighter to be sure that she wouldn't let go. Then, she quickly snapped the reins back down. She gave a cry as it jolted her agonized shoulder and winced when the rope snapped against the horses back. No doubt feeling just as pained as she was. Catherine repeated the action several more times only to find that she was sorely lacking any strength to even move the horse forward.

She let of go the reins altogether, knowing that any effort she put in was going to be fruitless and she would never be able to catch up with them in time. In fact, the carriage had vanished completely around a corner from what she had last seen. Rather, ungracefully, she hopped off the carriage, deciding that it was better if she didn't drive at all. She didn't want to cause the deaths of half the population within London if she was honest; Jonathan may be a high up policeman that could let her get away with it but she doubted that he would do so. Besides, she would hand herself over. Even the thought of murdering someone made her sick.

Catherine landed on the cobblestone pavement, this time having luck and not falling flat on her face in anyway. A few people stared at her like she had just grown another head but she paid them no mind, knowing that she had more important issues at hand. She collected the fabric from the front of her dress, exposed her stocking clad legs.

She was pretty sure that she had heard a woman sigh before collapsing to the ground.

Once she had bundled up enough, she broke off into a sprint to the direction where she had last seen the other carriage. Along the way, she bumped into quite a few people, all of whom yelled rather nasty sayings towards her that left her cheeks red. She called several apologies as she passed, feeling pretty guilty that she was knocking people over but there was no time to lose. Mister Frye would be hurt because of her silly little quest for finding her driver, whom she feared could have been harmed even more. The Blighters could be on them and even worse; the police. There would be no keeping her antic secret from Jonathan then.

Her thoughts about that kept her rushing forward, the adrenaline pumping through her bloodstream at full force now. She barely even noticed how tight her corset was against her ribs, hindering her lungs from inhaling much needed oxygen to keep the energy flowing. Despite that, she pushed on; she couldn't afford to slow down. Finally she rounded the corner where she had last seen Jacob, skidding when she did so. Her actions caused her to bump into a child, now squealing in pain when she did so.

The cries of the child reminded her much of her own, making her come to complete stop. Catherine rushed over to the child, who was splayed out on the pavement. No one else was paying him any mind, staring at him in disgusted. Catherine glared back at them, finding it revolting that people would not even help a poor little child. Gently, she placed a hand on her shoulder, the other on his wrist so that she would be able to lift him from position on the floor. When she managed to help him upright, she held onto a little tighter so that he wouldn't be able to fall over again. Tears streamed down his dirty and ashen grey face, seeming to actually clean the grim off. Her hands began to rub his upper arms in attempts to sooth him.

"Sweetheart, are you alright? I am ever so sorry for making you fall, I really should be watching where I am going," She started and the boy only stared at her eyes wide, a glint of fear in them.

Oh dear, had she really frightened him that much? Catherine went to open her mouth to apologize further and reassure him that everything was going to be alright, only for another feminine voice to interrupt her.

"Jack!" Her brown eyes snapped up to find an older woman, perhaps in her late thirties, staring at the boy with hands on her hips.

Catherine guessed that this was his mother for he shrugged out of her grasp, sprinting over to the woman. Her hands fell on her lap, watching as the young boy returned to his mother. Another voice came, this time deeper. Her eyes moved away from the boy and his mother and stared up.

There above her was the crazy man who she had thought had been harmed and she gave him a small smile, feeling very glad that he was alright.

"Are you alright?" He wondered, holding his hand out to her.

Gratefully, she placed her hand in his, her finger just about managing to wrap around his large hand. In unison, they both tightened their grip around each other's hands as he helped her from her kneeling position. Once she came to her feet again, neither let go of one another's hands, letting their hold stay. She didn't say anything to him in answer, choosing to just stay into his hazel eyes, suddenly mesmerised by them. Catherine didn't know what was wrong with her all of a sudden, she just found herself entranced by his eyes.

She didn't understand why this man had chosen to help her when she had been nothing but nasty to him even since they had met. Given, her attitude was justified as he did push her driver away and 'kidnap' her. After his actions, she decided that she had forgiven him; she always saw the good in people. And the longer she stared into his eyes; she could see the _good_ within them, shining very brightly.

There was movement from behind Jacob's shoulder, causing her to shake her head. It brought her out of her stupor and she loosened her grip on Jacob's hand considerably. Eventually, they joined hands fell and she dearly hoped that her face wasn't blazing ruby red again. Catherine stepped to the side, noticing that Herbert was the one who was standing behind Mister Frye. A gasp fell from her lips as she took in the state he was in.

His left eye was swollen shut; the once pale skin now an obsidian colour. There was a large cut across his right eyebrow that had dried blood caking his skin. His lips were also swollen, blood leaking out from his nose. Clothes were ripped and torn, exposing several bruises around his body. The man was certainly battered and bruised, very seriously it seemed. Catherine felt tears filling her eyes and blurring her vision. Without hesitation, she hastily made her way over to her friend, wanting to make sure that he was indeed alright, even if he did not appear to be so.

Much like she had done with the boy earlier, she placed her hands on his upper arms, hold tightening ever so slight. Not enough to harm him further.

"Herbert! Who did this to you?!" She explained shrilly, agony overcoming her at the state of the poor man.

What did he do to deserve this? Why was he even taken in the first place? This wasn't at all right in any way! How dare they do this to him? When she found out who it was, she would personally find them and give them a piece of her mind.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

As of this moment, this applied to her very much so.

"I thought it was Blighters but it was policemen, which was really odd," Jacob told her, speaking on Herbert's behalf.

Dread drowned out her previous agony. Its icy tendrils latched onto even inch of her body, filling up her stomach. Without realising, her hands gripped Herbert a little tighter, her breathing beginning to feel a little more ragged as dread found home within her. Guilt soon followed, acting as dread's companion. The two mixed together like a potion, a drug that was poisoning her. It all made her want to vomit right here and right now. In fact, Catherine could feel bile rising up her throat, the acid burning the sensitive skin there. Her tears emerged from their ducts again as the dread and the guilt only became more pronounced as thoughts whirred through her mind.

Herbert was in this condition because of _her._ This was all her damned fault and she could feel the self-loathing that only ever happened whenever Jonathan beat her senseless. In this moment, it felt like he had been the one to physically strike the blow. How could she forget that her husband had her followed where she went? How could she forget that he made those under his command do whatever he wanted? How could she have been so stupid as to believe that he wouldn't have someone watching all she done today? Because of that, her friend was severely beaten and she had now placed her acquaintance in harm's way.

A hand came to rest on her shoulder, causing her to flinch having not expected it to happen for she had been too caught up in her own mind. Her eyes snapped to the side, finding Jacob gazing at her in concern. When she turned to face him, she masked her inner emotion, having done it a million times within the past four years. Instead, she conveyed an expression of unease instead, wanting to keep the emotion limited so that she didn't give anything away. She was sure that Herbert had seen the turmoil that had overcome her face for he had inkling into the type of man that Jonathan was.

Jacob went to open his mouth, not doubt going to ask her if she was alright but she beat him to it, knowing that if she didn't speak now, she would lose her composure.

"We must take Herbert to the hospital; I cannot believe the Police would do such a thing!" The last few words were a lie, but she had to play the part for Jacob to believe that she was being truthful. It worked for he nodded his head in agreement.

"Indeed, those wounds aren't going to clean themselves. But I think it would be best if we took him to a private doctors, out of sight, just in case Blighters come looking for him because I feel as though those Policemen weren't really the Police," He suggested, to which she nodded her head at eagerly.

She let one hand drop from her friend's arm, her earlier grasp on his arm having loosened considerably. Catherine hoped that she hadn't seriously hurt that man when panic had overcome her like a massive tidal wave. She glanced back at her friend, who was now rubbing his arm where her hand had once been and she winced, realising that she had harmed him more than she had meant to. The lingering guilt churned within her stomach for she knew that she was creating more damage than she was doing any good.

"Would that be alright Herbert?" She questioned, wanting to have the man's approval to be treated, not wanting to force him into doing anything he did not want to do.

He may want to go home to his wife and his son, to simply forget about this day that was no doubt traumatic for him. Silently, he nodded his head and she could tell that he had no strength to speak. This time, she placed a careful and gentle hand around Herbert's small shoulders, keeping her touch light so that she didn't press of his wounds. Her small hand covered his fist that was tightly clenched on his chest. She felt him wrap his arm around her waist, though he had no strength to properly hold onto her, which made sadness tug at her heart.

When she had him cleaned up, she would give him time off, consequences be damned. Besides, Jonathan was out of town for a few weeks, so he would get away with it and she would keep his men's focus elsewhere, somehow.

She bit her lip, trying to think about where they could go. Her first thought was to go to her mother's but it vanished as quickly as it came. The moment her mother opened to door to a bloodied and beaten man, she would faint. So that was out of the option. She couldn't risk taking Herbert to her families' personal doctor for he would report back to Jonathan about what had happened.

Another place she could think of was her own home. Whilst she had no skill like a doctor or a fully trained nurse, she had some in patching up wounds, her own to be more specific. Given the state that Herbert was in, more skill was acquired for she was sure that he had more injuries than what was on show. There was also a lady; an old friend of her mother's that she had known when her and her mother moved to London after her father's death. The woman had lived next door along with her husband and she could vividly remember her being a nurse whom worked at Lambeth Asylum. That and her mother and her friend would talk nonstop, always grating her nerves when she was younger.

Catherine turned to face Jacob, who was staring at her oddly, an expression etched on his face that she wasn't able to decipher. Rather than taking the time to study it, she spoke to him instead, her choice made.

"Mister Frye, would it be alright if you could take us to Lambeth Asylum? Of course – you don't have to; we can always get a cab-,"

"Cathy, are you trying to send me back to the Asylum?" His remark and the nickname threw her off for a second, having not expected him to say that.

After all, he had become extremely furious earlier when she had suggested that he had come from such a place. However, there was a smirk splayed across his handsome features, a cheeky glint gleaming within his eye and then she knew that he was joking with her. Her sombre mood lightened a tad, a tiny smile worming its way onto her face.

"What if I was?" She jested back and his eyebrow rose at her comeback, he having clearly not having expected it either. Jacob came towards the pair, the smirk still on his face telling her that he wasn't done joking with her.

"Well, I am quite offended my lady. After all, I did save your friend here would any sane man do that?" He indicated his head towards the carriage that he had jumped on, wordlessly informing her to head in that direction.

She followed his lead, moving both her and Herbert forward, the man beginning to lean on her a bit too much.

"I'm convinced that you are no sane man the moment that you jumped across one carriage to another. It was rather impressive I have to admit," She whipped back, enjoying the banter with him, having never had something like this before.

At this point, Jacob had taken Herbert off her hands. The latter was now leaning heavily on Jacob, whom was doing his best to hold the man up. Catherine hurried towards the door, hand latching onto the handle.

"So you're impressed?" She saw his smirk morph into something more devilish and she could already feel her cheeks flaming before she could stop them.

She really needed to sort this out, it was beyond ridiculous. Her mouth opened to respond to him when another beat her to it.

"Can-can we go, please," The whimper of Herbert came, his voice thick and sluggish.

If anything, she flushed further having being so caught up in her conversation with Jacob she had forgotten that a man was in dire need of medical assistance. Her eyes met Jacob's briefly and he shrugged his shoulders in response.

"Sorry, mate," He apologized, helping the sore man into the carriage, Catherine helping.

The woman joined the man in the cab, wanting to be sure that he wouldn't drop dead on their way to Asylum. Plus, she didn't feel comfortable sitting up in the driver's seat with Jacob. Not because it was him but because she was wary that he would hand over the reins to her again. Something that she never wanted to do ever again.

Once she climbed in, she circled her arm around Herbert again. The man fell on her, seemingly collapsing on her in exhaustion. She didn't mind at all, knowing that he had gone through quite the ordeal. She wanted to question him on what happened properly but she kept them to herself for he deserved to have a rest on their way to have him treat. A cold draft drifted into the carriage and she turned to face Jacob who was standing at the open door of the carriage.

"Thank you Mister Frye," She told him, giving him a soft smile, which he returned. He tipped his flat cap in her direction before moving back to close the door.

"Please don't drive too fast!" She told him in jest and she could hear him laugh, a deep and throaty chuckle as he closed the door.

 **16** **th** **March 1868**

The moon now shone, replacing the sun that had set a few hours earlier. Stars seemed to twinkle across the deep, dark sky. They stood out among the smoke that was continually rising from factories scattered across London. There weren't many people outside, save for men and woman dressed in red and black, prowling the streets for their next victim. Apart from that there was nothing, the streets empty. It would quite eerie.

A carriage rounded the corner from the end of the street, a man in a flat cap driving. Within the carriage was Catherine, whom was sleeping in the compartment. Her head rested against the wall. Eyes were firmly shut and her mouth was agape. There was a small bit of salvia dripping from her mouth. Soft snores came from her throat each time that she breathed. Blood stained her clothes, some on her cheek from helping in tending for Herbert. The process had taken longer than Catherine had anticipated for Amelia had been caught up with a patient so they had to wait for the woman. After nearly forty five minutes, Catherine was convinced that the wait was going to be even more extended. Not that she minded of course, she had dropped by the back entrance without warning, she should expected as much.

In that time, she had told Jacob that he could leave for he didn't have to be there anymore, he had done more than another for her and for Herbert. But the man insisted that he was going to stay until he saw the healing process through. To say she was shocked was an understatement, she would have thought by then he would have been fed up with all that he had to deal with today.

Another woman had come by minutes after she had asked Jacob to go, informing her that Amelia wouldn't be available until later on that evening. As the trio made to leave, the woman offered her services that they all, especially Herbert was grateful for. She had introduced herself as Florence and they all set on helping Herbert. The man's injuries had been more severe from what they had appeared to be, his face not even being the worse of it. Apparently, he had been shot twice, the bullets having embedded in his hips and his shoulder. That led to a gruelling process to collecting fragments of metal out of his hip that nearly have Catherine throwing up as they had to hold the man down. His screams still echoed through her mind and all the while, guilt churned within her stomach.

After that had been done, the lot of them left, thanking Florence profusely. The older woman had smiled at the kindly and told Catherine that she would let Amelia know that she had been by. With that they entered the carriage and set off on sending Herbert home. Before Herbert went back into his home, Catherine had given him £50 to do with what he wished and to have the next few weeks off. She even suggested that he go on a holiday with his family, knowing that he very much deserved it after all the chaos she had caused for him. The man had grinned wildly, engulfing Catherine into a hug that she hadn't been expecting and one for Jacob as well. It was safe to say that Catherine was in near hysterics at the expression of fear that had overcome the man's face.

The carriage began to slow to a stop, coming to a sudden abrupt halt. The motion caused Catherine to barrel forward, effectively waking her up. Her eyes snapped open only to come crashing onto the floor, her face making a rather nasty impact. It wasn't just her shoulder that was in pain anymore, it was her entire body. The strain of the day all loading onto her like someone had just placed a weights on her shoulders. Rather than moving from her position, Catherine groaned, the noise muffled. She heard the door open, followed by a gasp of surprise.

"Shit!" Came the crude word that had the tips of her ears burning. Hands were on her shoulders instantly, lifting her up from the floor.

Jacob pulled her out of the carriage altogether, the bitter night hitting her at full force. His hands remained on her biceps, keeping her steady. Her brown eyes locked onto his hazel ones, her face becoming blank. His eyebrows furrowed at her expression, staring at her quizzical.

"You really cannot drive, can you Mister Frye?" At her rude remark, he rolled his eyes, his warm hands falling away.

A small, rather inappropriate part of her brain wanted them back on her body again to which she felt blood starting to make its way up her cheeks. He sidestepped, coming to stand near her at a ninety degree angle. His right arm spread out, hand making a flourishing motion.

"We are here, Madame Wood," He finished with a little bow that had her hand moving up to cover her giggle.

When he stood back to his full height, the smirk on his face told her that he had heard her. Her eyes moved away from him and to the house.

Her mother's house to be precise.

It was a tall building, reaching four stories. The height made up from the slim frame of the house, not at all long in width. It wasn't anything grand, just something simple. Besides the house was a small sweet shop that her mother owned to keep money flowing after her father died. It was dark inside, in both the shop and the house, making Catherine wonder how late it was. Maybe it would have been wiser to go home but she had promised her mother and her daughter that she would be coming to see them today. And she never did go back on her promises. Catherine made to go forward but stopped when she knew that it was be rude to just waltz in and not say anything to the man beside her.

So she swirled to face him. For a few seconds, she just gazed at him, thoughts whizzing through her mind. How could a man she'd known for less than a day make today the most impossible and most marvellous day of her life? Yes, it had started out rocky for she had thought he had kidnapped her and intended to kill her and then learning he might have hurt Herbert. He had stuck with her to find him and even ended up saving the man's life by jumping onto a carriage for goodness sake. All when he didn't have to. She was a stranger to him, a mad woman who had been nothing but ungrateful for his help thus far. To her, this Mister Jacob Frye, was a unique man, having never quite met a man like him before. Which is why she wanted to meet him again. Somehow she would do it.

She reached a bare hand out towards him, having thrown her gloves away after they had become too bloodied. Gently, she placed it on his foreman that was crossed over the other across his chest.

"Mister Frye, I cannot – I cannot thank you enough for what you do for me, for Herbert today. I truly apologize for being rather awful to you today, I just assumed the worst when you took the carriage and Herbert was nowhere to be found. But when you jumped to that other carriage, I forgave you because I knew at that moment you were truly willing to help me, even when you could have told me to go away or even harm me. But you didn't. And – and I just can't put into words how much this means to me," She finished, sucking in a deep breath.

Jacob's face was blank and she felt mortification. Oh she could be stupid when she had the chance; she'd just made an utter fool of herself in front of him. Any other self-decapitating thoughts were gone when she felt Jacob taking her hand.

Much like he had done earlier in the day, he held onto her fingers as he moved his hand up towards his mouth. There he placed a gentle kiss. When he pulled the hand away from his mouth, he seemed to have a much more genuine smile gracing his lips rather than an arrogant one. Her eyes widened, still not used to the gesture. This was now the second time in her life that someone had done this to her and she didn't think that she would tire from it at all. It felt lovely to have some form of affection directed towards her rather than violence.

"It was no bother at all, Cathy. It was fun, if I'm honest I didn't realise London could be so exciting," He let go of her hand and she flushed at the nickname, finding that she quite liked it. Once her hand had fallen back to her side, he brushed past her. She watched him amble his way over to the driver's seat of the carriage, not being able to find the words to speak to him again, unsure what to even say. Sometimes, words didn't need to be used. Jacob clambered onto the seat, collecting the reins in his hands. For a second her heart stopped, realising that she may never see him again, something that she didn't want. She wanted to know more about him; she couldn't put her finger on why. It started again when he turned around to face her.

"Will I be seeing you around?" He questioned lightly but his tone informed her that he was being serious about the request. A smile wormed its way onto her face, mood lifting from what it had been seconds ago.

"That depends where could I find you?" She counted, placing her hands on her hips. In the dim light of the moon and the lamp on the carriage, she noted an expression on his face that she couldn't quite understand. It appeared as though he was debating with himself over something, seeming to be quite serious but she shrugged it off like it was a joke.

"I'll be at the Curio Shop in Whitechapel," He informed her simply, telling her nothing more, a glint glistening in his hazel eyes.

"Wonderful. It was lovely meeting you, Mister Frye," She called, waving at him as he started to drive away from her mother's house.

"Far lovelier for me I think," With that he tipped his hat, winked at her and sped off down the street.

Catherine observed the carriage as it became smaller and smaller down the road, barely being able to see it in the light. When it vanished amongst the fog and the darkness, she let out a small laugh. This had truly been the strangest day that she had ever experienced in all her small life. And yet, it was the one of the best she'd ever had. She shook her head, turning away from her place in staring out into the darkness. At a leisurely place, she wandered her way over to her mothers' home. More specifically towards the trough of plant pots hanging on the edge of the window where she knew her mother's spare key was. She lifted the plant pot, finding it almost instantly. Her mother didn't like it when Catherine did this, always telling her that Blighters would see her doing it and break into her home. Every time, Catherine would just roll her eyes at her mother, the woman too neurotic for her own good. One day, it would be the death of her, she was sure of it.

She turned the key in the lock, effectively opening the door. As she made her way through the door as quietly as she could, she could feel her energy sapping out of her system, the events of the day finally beginning to catch up with her. The door shut softly behind her, clicking into place. Her now heavy eyes zeroed in on the sofa that was extremely appealing to her right now.

The next thing she knew, she'd collapsed onto the soft cushioning not quite realising the implications that her actions would have later that morning.


End file.
